


Number Five Privet Drive

by GuestPlease



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8679250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuestPlease/pseuds/GuestPlease
Summary: Harry Potter is left at the wrong house.





	

On the morning of November 1st, 1989, Minerva McGonagall was dispatched to Privet Drive. She spent the day watching the residents go about their business and judging whether or not Harry Potter could be put in such an environment. No house appalled her more than Number Four Privet Drive, especially as Albus intended to put Harry Potter with these… people!

On a somewhat related note, Minerva McGonagall will readily admit that she was one of the most recent hatstalls in Hogwarts history. She does _not_ admit, under any circumstances, that the Hat was quite insistent upon placing her in Slytherin House for a solid three minutes. Thus, when Albus Dumbledore arrived that evening—without a baby in tow, Minerva McGonagall spent approximately a minute trying to change his mind, before making a decision.

“You really think Harry Potter will be safe here?” She asked.  
“Of course, Minerva. Don’t you trust me?” Dumbledore twinkled merrily.  
“I trust you, just not those people.” Minerva huffed. “But I suppose you’re right. Where is the baby?”

“Hagrid is bringing him.”  
“ _Hagrid_?”  
“Of course. He’s been taking care of young Harry all day, they’re nigh inseparable!” Dumbledore laughed jollily.  
“Albus, Hagrid doesn’t know anything about babies.”  
“Never fear, Minerva. He is, after all, quite adept with animals.”  
“Animals that squeak and squawk and run about leaving fecal matter all over the place!”

“I was under the impression that infants a year old fell into this category. Madame Pomfrey checked up on them, she said Hagrid had gotten young Harry to drink some of his special tea.”  
Minerva could feel a headache coming on. “Albus, that tea is special because there’s _brandy_ in it.”  
“Never fear, Minerva. Hagrid will take good care of Harry.”  
“It’s not that I don’t trust Hagrid, it’s that this isn’t his area of expertise! Why didn’t you give the baby to Poppy?”

“She was celebrating. She and Filius were doing such a marvelous foxtrot, I didn’t want to intrude.”

Minerva sighed. “Right. Albus, where are you going?”  
“I’m going to leave a note for Petunia.”  
“Albus, that’s Number _Four_ Privet Drive. The Dursleys live in Number Five.”  
Dumbledore’s eyes continued to twinkle. “Truly, Minerva?”

“Why would I lie to you? I know how important it is that Harry is in proximity to his family, you’ve explained it to me. I saw them all day. And besides, we both know what a creative witch Lily was. Why wouldn’t her sister have her own quiet act of rebellion against this suburban hell, planting forsythia while the rest of the drive plants the regular privet hedges?”

Dumbledore paused for a moment, before nodding. “You are absolutely right, Minerva. I knew Petunia was a special child. And Harry will be too. Her son and Harry should get along famously.”  
Minerva thought this was exceedingly naïve, given the family’s history, but nodded all the same. “I know that my life would definitely be different without my brothers.”

“How is Malcolm these days?”  
“Malcolm is fine. Robert is… fine.”  
“Minerva…”  
“Don’t, Albus. Just… tell me if it is true. That the wretched menace is finally gone.”

“I believe so. Sadly, he took Lily and James Potter with him.”  
“We’ve all lost someone.” At that moment, a distant roar was heard. The noise became louder as an enormous motorcycle with a matching sidecar landed in the middle of Privet Drive skidding a bit.  
“How is he, Hagrid?” McGonagall asked, worriedly looking into the sidecar.  
Hagrid, the enormous man perched on top of the bicycle, handed a small bundle (about the size of a particularly intricate vase) to Dumbledore.

Inside, McGonagall heard a small whimper.  
“He fell asleep over Lincolnshire.” Hagrid remarked fondly. “Li’l tyke.”  
“The fate of the world rests on his shoulders.” Dumbledore replied as Harry began to stir.  
McGonagall shot him a look. “Albus, let’s not go into that right now.”

She took the baby from him, and marched over to Number 5 Privet Drive, poised to ring the doorbell.  
“Ah, Minerva, don’t.” Albus said, transfiguring a forsythia leaf into a basket. “I wrote a letter.”  
“Albus, it’s the beginning of November. He’ll freeze.”  
“Yes. But I wrote a letter. On nice stationery, I don’t want to waste it.”  
“Albus, why wouldn’t Death Eaters comb England looking for him?”

“Minerva, he’ll be _fine_. I doubt even 40% knew Lily even _had_ a sister.”  
“ _Albus_ , that is far too high a number to take chances with.”  
“Minerva, trust me. He’ll be perfectly happy in his basket. Otherwise Petunia might ask questions I want to avoid.”  
McGonagall narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you going to play ding dong ditch with a baby to make sure that said infant is left in this home?”

“That was the general plan, yes. But without the part where we ring the doorbell—it’s half past one. Can’t wake up Petunia—she has a son the same age. Let her get what sleep she can, eh?” Dumbledore twinkled merrily.  
McGonagall stared at him. “Albus, you want to leave Harry Potter on this doorstep. All night.”  
“Yes.”  
“Because it’s 1:30am. And because you already wrote a letter. And you want to make sure Petunia can’t refuse, even though you know nothing about her life.”

“That sums it up perfectly, well done.”  
McGonagall felt a migraine coming on.  
“Albus, this child is perfectly capable of crawling or walking away. I have seen pictures. James and Lily could barely keep a hold of him, and they had an intricately warded home.”

“Ah.” Dumbledore paused for a moment. McGonagall began to hope he’d change his mind, but then he reached into his coat. “Lemon drop?”  
“ _Albus_ , what if he wanders away?” McGonagall demanded.    
“Petunia will simply have to chase him down.” Dumbledore remarked in what he thought was a sage manner. McGonagall and Hagrid stared at him.  
“Beggin’ yer pardon pr’fessor, but he could always stay with me…”

“Thank you Hagrid, but that won’t be necessary. Leaving Harry in a basket outside overnight with only a minor sticking charm affixing his blanket to the basket, henceforth referred to as Plan A, should go through. I see absolutely no reason why not.”  
McGonagall wanted to cry. _Why_ she had ever left her nice, comfortable job at the Ministry to work for this man, she never knew.

Dumbledore put a Sticking Charm on the basket, then took the baby from McGonagall,placing him neatly on the doorstep. He then tucked a note into the basket, and patted Harry’s head. Harry yawned, then began snoring softly.  
Dumbledore offered McGonagall his arm as Hagrid began crying thick tears. “We’ll always be friends, you hear me Harry Potter? I’m gonna take care of you.”  
“Hagrid, I think you should get going before the Muggles notice.”  
Hagrid mounted the motorcycle and flew off into the air.

As soon as he was gone, McGonagall ran to the door, rang the doorbell sharply, then ran back, Apparating away with Dumbledore.  
“Minerva, really.”  
“Albus, I wasn’t breaking the bloody ISS! I was keeping Harry from freezing to death!”  
“You could have just put on a warming charm.”

McGonagall hissed in frustration. “ _You_ could have handed her the baby and left.”  
Meanwhile, on Privet Drive, two women had been lying awake, and both had heard the doorbell of Number 5.  
In Number 4, Petunia had been fretting all night over the strange goings on—and why did Vernon have to mention her sister’s beastly baby? Didn’t he know speaking one of their names was as good as summoning their ilk?

Her blood turned to ice when she heard the doorbell ring, but she headed down all the same. Lily’s husband would just force his way in, the brute. She stopped on the doorstep, noticing Mrs. Forsythe take a basket inside.

Petunia was not a witch, but she was smarter than most people gave her credit for. She was reasonably certain that basket contained Harry, and what’s more, Harry without her sister gave her cause for alarm. She felt a sense of duty overtake her, that she should call out to Mrs. Forsythe and demand the baby, but she stopped herself. Nothing good would come of that child in her home, though whether she was thinking of herself, or even of the child, she didn’t know.

Mrs. Forsythe, owner of Number Five Privet Drive, didn’t even notice Petunia. All she noticed was a fairly large baby with brown skin stare up at her with large green eyes. In the baby’s fist was a letter that he had obviously been chewing on. She looked around for who might have left him, and vaguely saw a light in the distance in the sky. A helicopter? Delivering a baby? She brought the child in and warmed milk while reading the letter as best she could.

“ _Dear Madam,  
It is my sincere sorrow to tell you that your beloved sister was killed last night by a most evil wizard. Alongside her, her husband James died, but here is their son. Please take care of him, as you would your own son. I will set up wards soon myself to ensure your safety, do not fear. _

_If you ever loved Lily Potter, please do well by her son, Harry.  
_ _A. Dumbledore”_

Mrs. Forsythe raised an eyebrow. Either this Dumbledore had no idea what he was talking about, or he was a loony. Or a solicitor, she had trouble telling the two apart these days. Though most solicitors didn’t include infants.

Mrs. Agnes Forsythe was a widow. Her husband, Wilfred Forsythe, had met his very untimely end after a long bout of illness which had pained him terribly. She had met her husband when they were both working in a convent in India, educating young girls cast off by their families. At the time, both she and Wilfred had thought that he was in fact, Sister Wilhelmina, though this was not the case. Agnes was of the opinion that business of a sexual nature was quite alright when one was a nun if it was with other nuns, but as Wilhelmina was in fact Wilfred, that meant that this business had become heterosexual and they both had to leave in relative disgrace.

They hadn’t truly minded though, as they had each other, though one of their students had loved them dearly. Her name had been Ladli Poddhar, and she was like a daughter to them, especially as she was a orphan. Agnes had kept in touch with her throughout the years, though had recently heard of her death—and her husband’s, a military man from England—due to a traffic accident in Jaidhpur. She could almost convince herself that the baby was in fact, Ladli’s, despite having heard nothing of the sort from her. Though she had been quieter more recently, yes, that was it.

She would listen to the strange solicitor and take care of Ladli’s baby, despite mention of wizards, Anglicization of the poor girl’s name, and the fact that this Dumbledore tried to guilt her into accepting the baby. _Really_ , as though she was heartless.

“I don’t suppose you have a return address?” She asked the baby rhetorically, handing him a little cup of milk.  
He laughed and cooed, spilling the milk down his blanket.  
“Now now, none of that. I’m taking care of you, but I’m not necessarily wealthy. Baby things will most certainly eat into my funds.”  
“Moon?” Harry replied, looking around. “Bahfoo?”  
“Fear not, if we keep everything in good condition, you can use it for your own children. That will be _much_ better for saving money.” Agnes ignored what seemed to be nicknames, perhaps of family friends.

She patted Harry lightly on the head. “Granny is here now. Granny will take care of you.”


End file.
